


It Doesn't Matter

by tifaching



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6679120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifaching/pseuds/tifaching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time he's come with a message.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Doesn't Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompter who wanted Endverse Dean meeting Mark of Cain Dean.

“It doesn’t matter what we do.”

Dean can barely see the figure crouched in the shadows in the corner of his hut but the voice is liquor graveled, harsh as a slamming door and instantly recognizable as his own. Of all the shit he doesn’t need right now, this is at the very top of the list. He points his gun at whatever’s infiltrated his camp and cocks the trigger. “What are you?”

“What am I?” The figure unfolds, takes a step into the light. “That’s a damned good question.”

Dean’s jaw tightens, exactly mirroring the expression of the creature facing him. “So answer it.”

“I’ve been here before,” the thing says, eyes scanning the cabin. “Still a shithole.”

“Pretty sure I’d remember you if you’d showed up before.”

The thing bares its teeth in a parody of a smile. “No you wouldn’t. Have to have a future to remember the past.”

“But you remember.”

“I’m not the one going on a suicide mission tomorrow. I’ve had years to remember this.”

“Okay. Enough riddles. What. Are. You.”

The thing shrugs, spreading its arms wide, some sort of bone knife revealed when its jacket swings open. “I’m you.”

“Nah, I’m fairly positive I’m me.”

“Well, in some weird, time and dimension traveling way we’re both…us.”

Dean’s finger tightens on the trigger. “If you don’t start making sense, I’m going to shoot you right now.”

An infuriatingly familiar smirk works its way across the creature’s lips. “Well, that last time I was here was the night before the big mission too. Zachariah sent me from the past to see what would happen if I just took off on Sam and left him on his own to deal with Lucifer.”

“Yeah?” Dean doesn’t let the creature’s knowledge of dickish angel powers shake him. Much. “And what did happen?”

The smirk smooths itself back into a thin lipped tension. “Nothing good.”

“What is that?” Dean motions to the thing’s belt and the knife hanging there.

“The First Blade.” A hand reaches for it before the creature seems to even realize, then jerks back. “Big demon killing mojo.”

“And how’d you get it?”

“Hey, you made your mistakes, I made mine.”

“Could it take out Lucifer?”

“You don’t believe I’m you, but you want to team up? Sorry, buddy. This is your mess, you clean it up. I’ve got my own shit to deal with.”

Dean just smiles. “I could just pull this trigger and take the knife.”

The thing raises an eyebrow and rolls up its sleeve displaying a red mark branded into its arm. “You’d need this too. And I ain’t quite ready to give it up yet.”

Dean’s tired of games. “So why the hell are you here?”

The thing puffs out a breath and runs its hand over its lips in a gesture that almost convinces Dean that it’s telling the truth. “You fucked up by letting him go. I fucked up by hanging on too tight. And we both lost him. I just wanted to let you know.” The figure drifts back into the shadows and is gone like it had never been there at all. A whisper breathes into Dean’s ear before fading away. “It doesn’t matter what we do.”

Dean cracks the seal on a jar of moonshine and his throat works convulsively as he swallows, thinks about the mission, about his people, about what he’s willing to do to save Sam. “You’re right,” he mutters. “It doesn’t matter what we do. But you know and I know that we’re always going to fucking do it anyway.” He caps the jar, puts it back on the table and stretches out on his cot. Tomorrow will be the end one way or another.


End file.
